Highland, Pine Grove, and Summit.

Virginia, the chief of the hamlets, has since developed into an
organized city, and the capital of the Territory. Its site was certainly
not chosen for its natural beauty. Along the main gulch are the
mines,--huge piles of earth turned up in unsightly heaps. At one side
of the mines, and up a ravine which crosses the gulch at right angles,
lies the city. In shape it was originally like the letter T, but its
later growth has forced new streets and houses far up the hillsides. Not
so much regard was paid, in laying the foundations of the new city, to
its future greatness, as Penn gave when he planned Philadelphia. The
miner only wanted a temporary shelter, and every new-comer placed a
log-cabin of his own style of architecture next the one last built.
Where convenience required a street, lo! a street appeared. There were
no gardens, for beyond the narrow centre of the ravine only sage-brush
and cactus would grow. But the mines thrived, and also grew and thrived
the little city and its vices.

Gradually a better class of buildings appeared. What were called hotels
began to flourish; but it was long before the monotony of bacon, bread,
and dried apples was varied by a potato. And for sleeping
accommodations, a limited space was allotted upon the floor, the guest
furnishing his own blankets. A theatre soon sprang up. And either
because of the refined taste of some of the auditors, or the advanced
talent of the performers, the playing was not the broad farce which
might have been entertaining, but was confined to Shakespeare and heavy
tragedy, which was simply disgusting. This style of acting culminated in
the _debut_ of a local celebrity, possessed of a sonorous voice and
seized with a sudden longing for Thespian laurels. He chose the part of
Othello, and all Virginia assembled to applaud. The part was not well
committed, and sentences were commenced with Shakespearian loftiness and
ended with the actor's own emendations, which were certainly
questionable improvements. Anything but a tragic effect was produced by
seeing the swarthy Moor turn to the prompter at frequent intervals, and
inquire, "What?" in a hoarse whisper. A running colloquy took place
between Othello and his audience, in which he made good his assertion
that he was rude in speech. Since then, Shakespeare has not been
attempted on the Virginia boards. "Othello's occupation's gone"; and all
tragic efforts are confined to th